2010-07-19 - Things We Lost In The Fire
But the fact of the matter is, only a very small select few actually knew what happened today-- an hour ago, in fact, that led to the entirety of Tokyo-03 being consumed in a massive crater. The ethereal form of Rei Ayanami emerging from the Earth. The skies turning red, and every person in Japan-- and possibly the world, if not for the decisions of one young man-- regressed into little more than the primordial ooze. It stayed this way for only a few minutes, and the Third Impact threatened to swallow the Earth-- if not the whole of known space and beyond. ONE HOUR AND EIGHT MINUTES BEFORE Three mass-production type Evangelions systematically assaulted the Orbital Frame designated Ninlil, driving their false Lance of Longinus through the machine's chest and causing a multitude of errors in the internal systems. Though her defense was admirable, though her speed was amazing for an urban setting, Lieutenant Sovi Reincam found her machine being crushed on it's back into the city street. Though she tried her hardest, the damage to the Orbital Frame and the internal systems caused a massive feedback loop through the Metatron core. The wonder-metal and it's associated systems caused her body to link to the machine, and she felt every invasive moment that followed the three "machines" descending upon her: Probing fingers in her "belly," tearing out "innards" from the Orbital Frame. Teeth made bare by huge and peeled-back red lips biting and tearing through her arms and legs, into the neck and in her chest. When she threw up, she threw up hard. She threw up blood. When it was over, the Goddess of Wind was maimed and eviscerated, the parts scattered across the distance of four city blocks. The cockpit was crushed like an empty beer can in one of the Evangelion's hands, all while a heavy length of cabling hung out of it's mouth like entrails. When it was over, when her eyes opened again, it was with shattered debris and shrapnel blasted through her stomach, through her chest. Hot blood spilled over her lips, renewed by the new wounds. When she reached out toward the closest thing she could call "daylight," when her fingers held out at full extent, her body turned to what NERV dubbed "LCL." NOW Laying in a heap next to what remains of the crumpled cockpit, it looks as though Sovi had enough presence of mind to dress herself in what was left of her flight suit once more. Her hair is loose and fallen around her shoulders, and an odd sigil is burned into her skin. It looks almost tribal in nature, like some sort of dark tattoo that she seemingly gained overnight. She has no idea where she actually is, and her communications went out shortly after reconstitution. In front of her is a large black box, damaged on the edges, crushed here and there, and whole sections of the armored casing missing. She removed it herself in an attempt to boost her signal-- the signal of a simple twenty-four year old Lieutenant whose only purpose in being here was merely recon. And did I mention, she's in the middle of a gigantic crater where Tokyo-03 once stood. THE DAY BEFORE "And /that's/ why you don't go to Earth," notes Fable, jerking a thumb at the television in some Random Martian Bar. People of all types have flooded the place, surrounding it as they essentially play witness to 'The End of the World.' On grainy picture, pale-white and sunken-eyed Lilith looms over Tokyo-03, as countless human beings turn into goop. A 'hmph' followed by the toss of her head follows, as Fable Ardross turns her back to everything. EIGHT HOURS AGO "...Huh?" Blue eyes blink in confusion. "What do you /mean/?" A man in BAHRAM uniform clears his throat, as if he wasn't clear before. "I /said/ Reincam was sent to Earth on a recon mission of the 'utmost importance.'" Adjusting the bifocals on his face, the ranking BAHRAM officer adds, "Any more questions, Ms. Ardross..?" "No." The woman turns sharply on her heels and paces out of the office. THREE HOURS AGO "Hiiiiii, this is everyone's favorite Desert Queen!" a prerecorded video of Fable states in a way too merry tone. She even waves at the camera. "Sorry to disappoint /all/ of my /fans/, but starting today I'm going to take some personal time off to work on my tan~! "Oh yeah, I'm taking Beletseri with me. Bye!" NOW "So," a woman's voice wonders from behind Sovi as she tinkers with her wrecked unit's black box. It's the blonde Martian, Fable Ardross, wearing a pair of designer jeans, white heels and a gauzy button-down silk blouse with a frilly camisole under it. It looks painfully out of place in a /giant crater/. "What's it like to turn into Jell-O? I've always wondered." She's alternated between laying down and working for awhile now; tinker for a bit in order to get a signal out-- a sign to someone, /anyone/, that she's alive, that she's down there. The batteries inside of it snap and pop and crackle a few sparks now and then as the electrical wiring is being used for nefarious purposes that it really shouldn't be. At this point, it becomes a waiting game-- who's going to find her. Flash-forward to now. The feeling of euphoria is starting to die down, and Sovi's fingers bear a handful of cuts and scrapes from the tips to the ends of her knuckles. She's never thought pain could ever be so refreshing before in her life, a stark reminder that she's alive... alive, after what should have killed her twice over-- first by wounds, then by melting into a puddle. Leaning backward against the interior of the crater, Sovi's ears catch the sound of footsteps, the most familiar and probably welcome voice in the whole of BAHRAM. Turning around slowly, her loose and free cobalt blue hair sweeps and flows in and out, over and away from the marks on her face, that mark her chest and across her stomach in the open rips in the obnoxiously close-fitted flight suit. "I was hoping it would be you," she says, just as she turns around. "I can't trust anyone else to show up." Sovi turns her head a bit and draws in a breath. "... to answer your question, Fable... euphoric." For what seems like the longest moment in time, Fable just observes Sovi. This is weird, considering Fable is usually the sort to talk, and talk, and talk--and usually about herself. Yet, she stands with her hands casually tucked into the pocket of her hip-hugger jeans, full lips pulled into a thin, pensive line across her face. First, Sovi's face. Then, her chest. Lastly, Sovi's stomach. It's by no means a flattering or judgmental looking-over given to the other Frame pilot; quite the contrary, in fact. Silently she observes, mentally cataloguing the odd scarring that mars her wiry Martial physique. Mn, she privately notes. /That's/ not good. "Ah, who ELSE would it be~?" Fable finally states, giving her shoulders an airy shrug as she smugly smirks. "No one else wanted to have the burden of coming here to drag your skinny ass back home after what they saw, y'know." Blue eyes flutter to a close as she chuckles to herself, head half-turning from the other pilot. That's a lie, of course. Far be Fable to admit she was actually worried for once. "Oh well, at least you're alive and in one piece. Don't worry though." She pauses briefly, reaching into her back pocket. She pulls out something white and crumpled--is that...a water cooler cup..? Dangling it between her long fingers, Fable notes with a wide grin, "I brought this just in case I had to bring you home one way or another." The moment passes quickly, marked by the casual toss of the cup over a shoulder into the piles of debris littering the remains of Tokyo-03. "Well, you can keep that experience. /I'm/ glad to be solid and in one human piece." Strolling over casually, Fable pauses to look down at the black box before Sovi, blue eyes peering thoughtfully before she turns her attention toward the maimed remains of Ninlil scattered across the near-horizon. "Well, I dare say you /really/ messed up this time, Reincam," the blonde mutters, sliding an eye back toward the other woman, peering toward her from her peripheral. "Reaaaally messed up." Frowning, Fable's gaze sweeps back toward the destroyed remnants of Ninlil as she whines, "What a /waste/ of Frame and Metatron. Ohhh, Ninlil, I am so sorry your master was a terrible pilot!" A pause lingers. Then-- "You're all right, right?" There's absolutely no way that Sovi Reincam /hasn't/ noticed the changes to her body. But, there's a lot of twisted and jumbled emotions that are rolling around inside her right now. That wave of euphoria is still there, but it's begun to die out in her attempts to get herself some support and a lift back home. Now, she's starting to realize that there are a lot of things wrong inside her-- inside her head, her memories, her heart. But that's an entirely different story. It seems like Fable's attitude is lost on her, at least for now. The blue-haired woman's face settles into a relaxed smile all while she nods her head. "I appreciate the effort, Fable, thank you." She doesn't question the Desert Queen's motives, not in the least. She's here, she's alive, and she has help. For those reasons, she is very glad. Walking back to the black box, her eyes slip down to look at it-- then toward the various parts and limbs scattered through the debris in the sloping curves of the crater walls. The nearly-hollowed out "skull" that was once the head. One visible hand, and it has half of a finger left on a stumpy hand. "The black box data needs to get back to HQ for analysis. I'm guessing Beletseri could download and send the data faster than anything else." The cockpit wedged halfway into the pile of rubble about twenty feet away. Sovi frowns a little. Her eyes turn toward the ground, and her chest rises and falls with a deep breath. "I don't know, Fable. I thought I... I /knew/ I was gonna die," Sovi says, a hand on the bloody flight suit. "I woke up fine afterward. No holes, no blood, no nothing. I just woke up on the ground near the cockpit." "Ahh, don't remind me of that! Effort is such a bother," Fable whines as Sovi thanks her for taking the time to actually /track/ her down in the middle of a Hell Hole. Lifting a hand to her head, long fingers and well-manicured nails tussle up wavy blonde locks as the blonde's eyes survey the damage a bit closer. Damn, she thinks. Sovi Reincam /really/ got lucky. Eventually the moment passes, and Fable Ardross finally turns to watch Sovi wander back to the black box. While she would never, ever admit it, she can sympathize with Sovi and her loss. Losing her Frame would certainly be losing her one, best friend in the world--her partner. She can't do it without Beletseri-- Shaking her head, Fable shrugs her shoulders carelessly. "Pfeh, of course my gorgeous Beletseri can," she explains, pacing over toward Sovi before she pauses and looks down at the box. A silence lingers, broken only when Sovi exhales in what sounds like a disappointed breath. Discreetly, the blonde Martian turns her eyes toward the other Martian. Then the holed-up, bloodied flight suit hanging off her thin frame. With an inhale through her nostrils, Fable shifts her weight as she brings her arms up to rest them crookedly behind her head. "If you spend time worrying about the 'what could have beens' you'll never get anywhere in the scheme of things," the woman notes, looking toward the smoldering horizon. "Just be grateful you're still here and in one piece. And hey," A leg stirs, the pointed toe of her pristine white heel nudging the box by both women's feet. "Looks like Ninlil did you one last little favor, otherwise your skinny ass would be stuck out here wandering until the local 'authorities' can come in and...well..." They're on Earth. AND in Federation territory. "Well, let's just say you'd probably be knowing why the caged bird sings, or somethin'. Look," Reaching out, Fable gingerly grabs Sovi's arm and tugs it. "Let's just get you back someplace less Apocalyptic and do you a favor of drawing you a nice, long and hot bath--oh, I know!" Letting Sovi's arm go, Fable's hands clap together. "Let's go visit Europe! I hear Greece is GORGEOUS this time of year--and the sunning is to /die/ for-- "Er, too soon?" Turning her attention to the black box, Sovi lowers herself into a squat and starts tugging the wires back out of the panel under the cover, tapping this button and that button until she can get it back to the standby, ready-to-download mode. Then she rises, and briefly wishes she had remembered to bring her holo-datapad along in order to have a little more remote access to this. If everything goes to plan, she'll have a backup of Ignis, the guncam footage, and everything that she'll need in order to make a solid report to Nohman. Maybe, if she's lucky, he won't just file her for dishonorable discharge and crush her career into a fine dust. Maybe-- but she's not going to bet her life on it. "Yeah... you're right," Sovi replies-- and thoughtfully. There's something in her eyes, in her presence, in the very way she just /stands there/ like nothing's wrong. Like she's thinking about something else, or someone else, or-- --or millions of people else. Fingers wrap around her bicep, and the shorter blue-haired pilot is tugged away from the black box. Though she doesn't put up a lot of resistance, she /does/ look at Fable with a bit of concern, pointing toward the direction whence Fable came. "B-But I have to file a report as soon as possible, and-- it's not too soon, Fable, but I can't neglect my duty to BAHRAM." "Well, n-not too soon, if I'm alive, but I'll have a lot of things to answer for when the time comes..." Unfortunately for Sovi Reincam, Fable is aware that something is Not Right with her designated rival. It draws a bit of concern from her, though by no means will she express it. Instead, she'll just be herself and hope that she's saying and doing the right things. She can't have her rival mopey and worried about silly things like 'almost dying' and 'turning into primordial ooze.' That's just nonsense! And so Fable tug-tugs on Sovi's lean arm, insisting she follow. She has all she needs, so it's obviously time to move on and get to doing what Fable does best: slacking off on BAHRAM time. "Pfffft," is her response to Sovi and her legitimate concern. "There's /plenty/ of time later to file silly reports and worry about 'duty' and all that. Trust me," the other woman insists, tugging the blue-haired Martian along. "Stop being such a wet rag and enjoy yourself for once, geesh! Besides, all they want to do is bark bark bark about missions and orders and--" Waving a hand about, Fable just casually dismisses her CIVIL DUTIES. "Why don't you respect your partner's sacrifice and /live/ for yourself for once?" Dragging Sovi along, Fable wanders toward the distant silhouette of a kneeling Beletseri in the setting sun over Tokyo-03's remains. "Be/sides/, I bet we can find some hot guys to hook you up with. I bet you're still a /virgin/." Indeed, what Sovi thinks of doing on the "company time" and what Fable does are two entirely different things. She doesn't pull away from Fable, but the woman's eyes are a little on the wide side, absolutely unable to believe that the BAHRAM sniper would be so willing to throw duty off to the side-- especially with vital information like this. Still, she isn't exactly going /against/ it. With the tugging, Sovi's lean frame pulls along behind Fable-- stumbling the first few steps, but then catching her footing to follow along. She frowns, though, just a little bit-- as her partner is mentioned, the Orbital Frame that's scattered across Tokyo-03. Hopefully, Ignis is intact in the black box data. That would probably be the even bigger blow to her system-- losing the partner-within-the-partner, the AI that fought so well and in time with Lieutenant Reincam in the last year, the last six months especially. Still, looking back over her shoulder, Sovi frowns. Ninlil's skull looks back at her, one eye left in the socketing. The Metatron-marked woman's yellow-tint eyes shift down, but then she seems to follow along without much of a problem. Then, her face gets a little red. "My personal life is none of your goddamn business, Fable!!" At least that's a little more normal? Category:Logs